A Moment in Time
by Queen of the Caribbean
Summary: Rated R for disturbing themes (told to by friends of mine for later chapters). Basically a chapter-per-character story, involves a Hermione/Draco relationship thing (but it isn't the central theme. Sorry to disapoint).
1. Draco's Story

A Moment in Time  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter enterprise, nor do I have anything to do with JK Rowling.  
  
Draco's Story   
*****  
Why? That's the one question I ask myself now. It's the only question that comes into my mind. I can't even ask how many sugars someone takes in their coffee... but why? Why is the question why? I *should* be happy. I left Hogwarts with equal top honors. I perfected a curse almost unknown by the entire wizarding population. I helped to rid the world of many Muggles and Mudbloods... I took over the 'family business' when I left school; my father is now in Azkaban, I narrowly escaped. The Dark Lord is finally defeated, and about time too - he was starting to get on my nerves. I know what you're thinking; I don't need to ask you. "Why would Draco Malfoy, once second in command to the Dark Lord, now the most powerful wizard in the wizarding world, only be able to ask why?" And there's that word again - why.   
  
I'll tell you why, and then perhaps you can answer *my* question.   
  
I left Hogwarts equal top of our year. Granger was the other party of the pair. My father was about to be 'demoted' by Voldemort, and I just so happened to take his place. Things went well - more Muggles and Mudbloods died this time round then ever before. But still Potty managed to elude us. It got to the point where Voldemort was letting other matters slip, diverting all his attention towards destroying Potter. He nearly managed it this time - he drove him almost to insanity.   
  
The first thing he did was take out the Weasel, Potter's best friend. That sent Potter a bit crazy for a while; Voldemort almost managed to destroy him. But he didn't get the chance. It took a while, a few years in fact, for me to convince Voldemort to get rid of a few others in Potter's life - his girlfriend, Weasel's sister; the Longbottom dope; the giant in love with the Magical animals; Dumbledore; and even his Muggle relations. They were all dealt with, and the whole plan to get rid of Potter would have worked if the Ministry's new Auror hadn't stepped in... Granger.   
  
Of all the professions to take up, she had to take up the role left open by Mad Eye Moody when he died five years after our graduation... or was killed, I should say. I dealt with that one personally... always wondered what good his eye was; it makes a good mantelpiece conversation topic.   
  
I'm not ashamed of killing so many people - the world is a much better place without the lot of them - but I often wonder what would have happened had my life been different. Voldemort, when he realised he'd been beaten for the second time, gave me full control of the operations. Though he thought himself invincible, immortal, he wasn't. There were spells that even *he* didn't know about... ones more powerful than Avada Kedava... Evadi Madoni for example... it brought about the downfall of Salazaar Slytherin, Merlin, and countless other famous, and infamous, wizards and witches.   
  
Voldemort didn't have enough immortality to withstand the Evadi charm (it is a curse, but far more deadly, so it is called a charm)... I made sure of that.   
  
When he was good and dead, or maybe it should be bad and dead? Whatever. When I knew for certain that he would not return, I set about creating my own force... when Voldemort gave me control of the operations, I don't think he expected to be out of the picture altogether. My father, by this time locked away in Azkaban, would have killed - again - to be a part of my empire. The Dementors were gone - Dumbledore had seen to that before we finished him - and so too were many of the wizards part of my army. Granger had taken them from me....  
  
At this point, if I'd thought about Granger, I'd have seen the not-entirely-gargoyle-looking girl from school - hair a touch too fluffy, head always in a book. But seeing is believing... the Auror look didn't seem to be her somehow. The black school robes replaced by leather armor, the witches hat replaced by a helmet, the long hair gone, the girly look as though it never existed. She reminded me of Mad Eye Moody in some ways... I suppose that was expectable, seeing as he was the one who trained her. I think she ended up knowing more than Moody... how else would she have been able to anticipate our movements? No one has ever been able to do that - not even the mighty Potter. He kept to hiding in places like Australia, and Egypt. I had never really hunted Potter like Voldemort had, so I didn't go out of my way to find and kill him. I had no reason to.   
  
I remember seeing her again at our school reunion, ten years after we'd left Hogwarts. I didn't recognise her. Of course, some people weren't there - Weasel for one, Longbottom for another - but others were. I remember seeing Pansy - growing older didn't take with her - she looked like she was related to a hag. But others, like Blaise Zabini, had mellowed out as they'd grown, leaving them looking far from the gangly teenagers they'd been. Blaise was one who hadn't joined my side when I'd requested... he wasn't around for long after that.   
  
I thought, originally, that Granger was the Chang girl from Ravenclaw - she'd gone into the business of dragon keeping, a job which required head-to-toe leather - but when I thought back, I realised the Chang girl was the year above us. It took me a while to find out who the leather-clad warrior (as I heard people call her) actually was, and why they were dressed like that.   
  
I saw her face to face before I left. She remembered me; I hadn't actually changed much besides getting older. She had. Her face... it was never pretty, but there was something... her face was scarred a little, not enough for to catch attention, but her arm... one entire arm, from shoulder to hand, looked as though someone had poured wax into the mould of an arm, and twisted it before it was properly hardened. It was mangled, a pale red in colour, and something that caught my eye. I don't blame her for what she said. "Move it, Malfoy. Quit staring, your eyes might pop out of your head and roll around on the floor. And if that doesn't happen naturally, I'll make it happen."  
  
Her tone wasn't light, as though she were joking, but deadly serious. She surprised me - she'd never been like that at school. "What's wrong, Mudblood, here to be bodyguard to your little Potty friend?" I hadn't actually meant to say anything to her, but I couldn't help myself. She merely smirked. "In actual fact, yes I am. It is the job, Malfoy, to look after people, *good* people, when you're an Auror. Now, if you don't mind, or even if you do, get out of my way before I go through you!"  
  
When she pushed past me, I wasn't sure if I felt angry, surprised, shocked, or even humiliated. In a way, I think I felt a bit of all. I watched her back walk away from me until she disappeared out the main doors. She didn't once look back. I don't think she really wanted to remember her school days - neither did I. But I think she wanted to see if it were true about half our class being dead. She got her proof - although I don't think it was quite half at that point. That was when the rumors of her being an Auror were proven... looking back, there was a point in time when I would have done anything for her... actually, I probably still would. If she'd let me.   
  
She is, and was, my weakness, and someone cannot be completely in control when they have a weakness. I tried to get rid of her; time and time again I sent my best, my worst, anything... but she was too good for them all. She outsmarted them, destroyed them. But she never found out it was me behind it all and not Voldemort until several of my men finally succeeded in capturing her, a year later.   
  
I didn't want her brought to me dead, like I said, she was my weakness, but a full strength Auror in my home was a recipe for trouble. So I had them torture her. Not much, just enough so she couldn't fight back. She still didn't realise it was me, she thought it was Voldemort. I couldn't bring myself to kill her then, just as I can't now. If I tried.   
  
She unmasked me with a simple spell. Expellarius. Of all the things to use, it was the one I should have known. I remember the expression on her face when she saw it was me under the robes. I think it was something between shock, anger, and even disbelief. As though she expected me to start laughing and tell her it was a joke.   
  
I think I wished, at that moment, that I could have done just that. For a while anyway. After her initial shock, she went back into Auror mode. Almost ended up catching me off-guard at one point, and I almost caught the Avada Kedava curse. She seemed to not care she'd be sent to Azkaban had it hit me full-force.   
  
When I finally retaliated, and it took some doing before I defied my weakness, I knocked her out cold. The many minions that surged around me then weren't much to hold back. I took her, personally, back to a place where Wizards, from the Ministry, would find her. I felt defeated, even though I had sent the last blow.   
  
That was the last time I saw her until just recently. When she'd recovered, she applied to be transferred to America, to work with the intelligence side of things. The Ministry didn't want to let her go - she was the best Auror they'd had since Moody. But she threatened to quit completely unless she went overseas. Needless to say, they let her.   
  
When I ran into her recently, she didn't recognise me. Hell, even *I* didn't recognise me anymore. She looked at me suspiciously; many years of being an Auror led to her seeing threats in the shadows, as was once with Moody. She let me pass. I'm sure she recognised me after a while, but she didn't say anything.   
  
I tailed her for a while, and she knew someone was behind her. Years of tailing Muggles and Mudbloods gave me the intuition to tell when someone knew. She even turned tail and tailed me for a stint... but she didn't catch me. If that was on purpose, I'll never know for sure. I never got a chance to ask her.   
  
She went to a bar of some kind, and I saw her again. We talked, as strangers, telling each other nothing of what we already knew. Thirty-two is not old by any means, but for us it was a miracle to have lived for so long. She, an Auror hunted by every dark wizard in the known world, and I, hunted by every Auror and good-hearted wizard in the known world.   
  
The night, which followed that evening, was magic. One I could never forget. Something we'd both been longing for since our school days, aching for, actually happened. And I left when she was still asleep - a peaceful, dreamless sleep. That's the memory of her I keep with me now, instead of the schoolgirl that plagued me for so long. Not the slightly scarred face, the mangled arm... but the deeper, stronger feelings that lay below the surface.   
  
I will never see her again. That much I'm sure of. I'm only thirty-five, but I'm not going to be around for much longer. The empire I've built up has taken all of my energy. I left no legitimate heir, and the one heir I do have isn't going to be trained in my way. He'll be brought up on the side of good, I know that much, because his mother is my weakness, my enemy, my love....  
  
It may be called weakness, but love can be strength. I'll never see my son, but I'm going to make sure he knows about me. I've written my story, my life, on parchment, which will be sent to him when he is accepted at Hogwarts - and I know he will be. My empire will crumble - no one will have the ability to continue the lead after my death - but I don't care.   
  
If my life could be played out differently, maybe I would choose the side of good. Maybe not. But I would at least change one thing - I would try to win her love in return.   
  
Now do you see why the question is why? Why did my life turn out like this? Why can't I control my feelings? A million things, why? I won't live 'til I'm forty, I know that. I won't even live until I'm thirty-six. All I can do is wait, and ask why....  
*****  
  
A/N: The next chap will be Hermione's story, then there's a few other characters after that. Sorry to all fans of Ron, Ginny, Hagrid, Dumbledore, and Neville - but I had to take out the characters that meant something to Harry (besides Hermione). 


	2. Hermione's Story

A Moment in Time  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter enterprise, nor do I have anything to do with JK Rowling.  
  
Hermione's Story  
*****  
Most people you talk to, when you mention my name, will tell you that I was the best Auror the Ministry ever had. They're wrong. What I did publicly may have been great, but it is what the people don't know that I'm ashamed of.  
  
I'll start at the beginning, so you can judge me with all the facts. When it was proven that Voldemort had returned, Mad Eye Moody requested to be reinstated as an Auror. Everyone on the Ministry, with the exception of Lucius Malfoy of course, agreed. Harry, Ron, and I left Hogwarts at the end of our seventh year to find a world of darkness, death - Voldemort's ideal world, except for one thing... Harry was still alive.   
  
Due to Dumbledore during the school year, and the magical protection at his aunt and uncles, Harry was relatively safe. Now he was without that protection, it didn't take Voldemort long to make him his target. What surprised everyone, including Moody, was that Voldemort didn't make a move straight away. He waited, for almost three years, before he tried anything. And even then it wasn't a direct attack on Harry. He went for Ron.  
  
I'll never forget returning to the flat that Harry, Ron, and I shared to find him on the kitchen floor, seemingly frozen in fear. Avada Kedava... it was then I decided to become an Auror. It was logical - I had left Hogwarts with equal top honors, and I was the one who walked away with the highest accumulated points, not only for Gryffindor, but for the school.   
  
But getting there was the hard part then. I contacted Moody, who agreed to train me - after a lot of persuasion. Even though he'd told Ron, Harry, and I many times at school, after he'd been reinstated from the trunk we'd make good Aurors, he was hesitant about training me. I think, somewhere under all that gruff exterior, he really didn't want us, me in particular, getting hurt.   
  
I didn't want to disappoint him, so I trained as hard as possible for as long as possible. And though there were always new places offered at the Ministry for Aurors, Moody would never allow me to take one. He told me I wasn't ready, and to keep training.   
  
After a while, I discovered a few things to make life as an Auror easier. I cut my hair, which I'd always thought to be uncontrollable short, and changed a few details with magic. I didn't want long, fluffy hair to be in my way. I started looking for ways to stand up to Moody, to tell him I wanted a position in the Ministry. When I faced off with him, he told me he'd done the same thing. "You have to be ready, and you aren't ready. You may think you are, you may think you're strong enough, but there are things I still know, and you don't. Until I've taught you everything, and I mean everything, that I can, don't even think about joining the Ministry, because you won't last a week."  
  
When I finally realized he was telling the truth, I relented and became more immersed in my training. The day I'd always been dreading came about three months after that, when I walked into the training gym to find no sign of Moody. The Ministry sent out searches, and finally they found what was left of him. His eye, and leg had been taken, most likely as trophies, and he'd been left hanging from a dead tree. A note had been found in his pocket, which looked as though it had been written a long time ago. "Now, Granger, you may take a position in the Ministry" was all that the note said, and I decided I would do just that.   
  
It didn't take long before they let me in - barely anyone would accept the job now anyway. The first few assignments I had weren't tough at all. In fact, they were basically what Moody and I had covered in our training sessions. One particularly nasty assignment involving a Death-Eater on the back of a dragon almost finished me, but I prevailed. As long as I was in the hospital, St Mungo's, I knew there were death-eaters somewhere, walking free. It was all I could think about - it plagued my dreams, haunted my mind. I think the specialists were glad to be rid of me in the end.   
  
I didn't even realise the damage that had been done until the day I left. My face, something I'd actually cared about at school, was scarred. Not heavily, but the scars were there. But that was nothing compared to my arm. My right arm, my wand hand, was melted, twisted, deformed. It was horrible to look at, and I initially tried to cover up. After a while, when I was finally allowed back into the Ministry and had taken on a uniform I was comfortable in, I didn't worry about it.   
  
I had been given Moody's old position, third in command of all Aurors, when I was contacted about the Hogwarts reunion. I knew, for a fact, that many of my year had been killed, but I didn't know the actual numbers. I didn't really want to go back - the Hogwarts I had in my head was a vibrant memory - but I had no choice. It was my duty to see how many of us there were left.   
  
I went in full uniform, an ankle-length, thick black skirt with leather pants underneath, knee-high, thick leather boots, and a thick leather bodice top. I purposely left the helmet off - I didn't want people to think I was too unapproachable. Still, I forgot about my arm, and the stares I caught almost made me laugh. I think I was the person no one had expected to go into the business of being an Auror.   
  
The person I saw, as I was leaving, sent shivers down my spine. I'd never really expected to see Draco Malfoy at a Hogwarts ten-year reunion. He had been standing there, in the doorway, all night. I'd done my rounds, seen who was missing, who was still alive, and I didn't like what I saw. There were some people I knew had died - I'd found them myself. Dumbledore was one. He'd sent the Ministry an owl, asking for an Auror to be sent to the castle. By the time I reached there, he was dead, and the Death-eater got off scot-free.   
  
Neville Longbottom was another. His grandmother had called the Ministry, frantic, because he hadn't called her. I was sent, and I found him as well. I felt so guilty afterwards, for thinking that Neville had just forgotten....  
  
As I left Hogwarts for the last time, I ran into Malfoy face-to-face. He stood in front of me, as though he didn't know who I was. I think he was distracted by my arm, which he couldn't tear his eyes away from. "Move it, Malfoy. Quit staring, your eyes might pop out of your head and roll around on the floor. And if that doesn't happen naturally, I'll make it happen." My tone had been harsher then I'd meant it to be, but it didn't faze him. "What's wrong, Mudblood, here to be bodyguard to your little Potty friend?" he almost sneered at me. the answer I was looking for, the final comeback I had for the night, seemed to jump from my mind of it's own accord. "In actual fact, yes I am. It is the job, Malfoy, to look after people, *good* people, when you're an Auror. Now, if you don't mind, or even if you do, get out of my way before I go through you!"  
  
He moved, ever so slightly, to one side and I pushed past him, eager to leave the building, eager to forget what I'd seen, to try to remember how things used to be. I didn't look back as I left Hogwarts, I didn't ever like to look back, on anything.   
  
In truth, when I finally fell asleep that night, I remembered the fling I'd had during seventh year, the fling I'd had with Draco... the fling no one ever knew about. I'd been crazy about him, even though I still called him names along with Harry, and Ron, and every Gryffindor. We never actually done anything, but the desire was just under the surface. It never left, as I found out at the reunion, just lay dormant for so long.   
  
After the reunion, I found myself swamped with death-eaters. Not all at once, mind you, but there were some good ones. The death-eaters who'd lived through their encounters with me ended up in Azkaban. About a year after the reunion I was finally captured. A group, twenty at least, attacked me at once. I expected them to kill me, but they didn't. instead, they took me to a large, rambling mansion, and tortured me for what felt like hours.   
  
Finally, I was dragged to a large, dark room. Someone was standing on the top of a staircase, and I believed that person was Voldemort. The death-eaters let me stand on my own, and my wand was returned. The person on the staircase stood across from me, laughing hollowly. "Voldemort..." I said under my breath, and the person laughed again.   
  
I couldn't see his face, and I didn't want to die like that. I did the first thing that came into my mind. "Expellarius!" I yelled with as much strength as I could muster, and the robe flew back. It wasn't Voldemort - it wasn't even someone I hadn't met. It was Draco Malfoy. I didn't know what to think. I'd always believed, deep down, that he wasn't a bad person, that he wouldn't be influenced by Voldemort. I half-expected him to start laughing at me, to tell me he'd already been here and gotten rid of Voldemort, made it safe for me... but he didn't.   
  
He stared, laughing under his breath. I felt my muscles tense, and I gripped my wand, pointed at him, and yelled "AVADA KEDAVA!" He ducked out of the way - maybe that was a good thing. At that moment, I hadn't given a single thought to what would happen to me if the curse had been successful. I hadn't cared what it would be like in Azkaban day-after-day. I hadn't cared about anything.   
  
He simply straightened himself and looked at me. he looked like he was fighting an inside battle for a while, but finally he sent a charm at me I've never heard before or since. "Edoni Hevarti."  
  
That is all I remember from my meeting with Draco Malfoy. I woke up in a branch of St Mungo's, the same one where I'd been treated for the burn I think, and they released me after a few weeks of my grumbling.   
  
I couldn't stand to fight Malfoy without knowing his curses, so I applied to leave Europe for America, where the world's best libraries are. They didn't want to let me leave. Some of the excuses they used were astounding. "We can't finance a personal trip," "You have to fulfil your fifteen years of duty before you can leave here," and the best one - "You're the best Auror since Mad Eye Moody. You're the only one whose been here for over five years!"  
  
I threatened to quit the profession altogether if they didn't let me leave, and so I found myself on a plane to the states. I spent the next few years in the libraries, searching for a clue, anything, that would let me know what charm Malfoy had used. I found nothing.  
  
When I returned to Europe, to London, I laid low. I tried to avoid all contact with the Ministry, and for a while, it worked. They didn't know I was back in England for so long, I'd actually hoped they thought I was dead. Alas, no. They found me the year I turned thirty. I told them, in no uncertain terms, that I was retired. They could find someone else to fight their battles, I was through.  
  
For two years they continued to annoy me. Finally, I left my home and headed for Diagon Alley. Many of the shops that had been there when I was at school were long gone, replaced by others I'd never even thought could exist. Dark magic seemed to have been set free in the street - more hexes, curses, and practical joke stores lined the streets then ever before.   
  
I found one that sounded very familiar - Weasley Wizard Wheezes, the shop opened and run by Fred and George Weasley the year after they left Hogwarts. I stopped in there, said hi to both Fred and George, and their families. It wouldn't be long, I thought, before another crop of red-haired Weasley's graced the Hogwarts rooms.   
  
Leaving there, I bumped into someone who looked strangely familiar. I didn't know who, and I'm not really sure still, but the way they looked at me was unnerving. Or it could have been that I was jumping at shadows like Moody had once done. Nevertheless, I wasn't surprized to find I was being tailed. I reversed direction and tailed them for a while, but they obviously knew their stuff because the tables turned once again.   
  
I headed to a bar, standing where the Leaky Cauldron had once stood, and waited for the person to arrive. They did, and they surprised me. the person headed straight towards me, and it was then I realized how strange he looked. His eyes weren't bright, but they weren't dull either. He wasn't skinny like he hadn't eaten for years, but he didn't seem to fill his clothes out right. And his hair... it was pale, but not as pale as Malfoy's had been during school.   
  
We talked. Both skipping past details as trivial as our names, our ages, our schools... commenting on the weather, the war between the pure-bloods and mudbloods. By the time our conversation ended, I had no doubt who I was talking to, but I don't know if that person was the same person who'd run into me outside the Weasley's. I was talking to Draco Malfoy, I was sure of it.   
  
Somehow, by unspoken agreement, we still didn't mention names, Hogwarts, people we knew. If we left it so we were strangers, there would be no war between us. No cause to start the fight afresh. The Ministry had finally died out, still begging me to return, and the Dark Lord's power had shown supremacy. The world was a place to be proud of, if you were a dark wizard, and a place to fear, if you were a muggle, a mudblood, or someone Draco Malfoy despised.   
  
Somewhere, though all of this, we left together, and completed what we'd once almost done at Hogwarts. I never saw him again; he left when I was asleep.   
  
That was three years ago, and now I have a son. I named him Blane, Blane Draco Aquillis Malfoy Granger. A big name, I agree. But a name relating to a person who has never done me wrong, not really. Harry, my friend, the person I love as a brother, never understood the choice of names I gave my son, and I don't blame him. I have since told him about my fling with Malfoy at school - he didn't understand, and I don't expect him to, but he has at least accepted my decision. Blane won't be brought up how Draco Malfoy would have liked, that I'm sure of, but I don't want him to be cut off from ever knowing his father - even if they don't meet in person.   
  
There hasn't been much movement in the Wizarding world since three years ago when Malfoy announced himself as ruler, but I have a feeling that is about to change. I don't know why, or how, I know. Call it a gut instinct if you will, but something will happen soon. Harry is a teacher at Hogwarts now, one of very few places that remain the same as they were many years ago, and Blane is very powerful already - I shudder to think what he will be like when he grows into his powers.   
  
But I have a while before that happens, plenty of time to think about things, to prepare things. All I can do is wait, and wonder...  
  
If we could go back in time and change but a single moment, would it make the world a better place?  
*****  
A/N: Chap 2 is done. Tell me whatya think, and I'll get the next one up and away ASAP! Again I apologise to those who are fans of Ron, Ginny, Neville, Hagrid, Dubmledore, and etc. 


	3. Harry's Story

A Moment in Time  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter enterprise, nor do I have anything to do with JK Rowling.  
  
A/N: Just to clear things up... Harry didn't die in there anywhere, it was Voldemort who wanted him dead, and Draco didn't really give a shit about it - he was just following orders. And yes, Draco does know about his son, but he knows that he'll never get to meet him.   
FS: I'm sorry I skipped the SS, but you wouldn't believe how hard it is to think of them. If I get a chance, I'll write another version of each chapter with the scenes included, k?  
  
Harry's Story  
*****  
I have seen so much pain, and death in my life. I wish I hadn't... but then again, anyone who is born, or lives through a time of darkness wishes they hadn't. I have lost some of the people most important in my life, and even some who weren't.... let me take you back seventeen years, to the year after I left Hogwarts.   
  
Ron, Hermione, and I shared a flat in London. We knew, when we left Hogwarts, we would be in a lot of danger no matter where we went. It was suggested to me, by Cornelius Fudge of the Ministry, that I stay in Hogsmeade until Voldemort was stopped. If I had done that, I would *still* be there. But if I *had* done that, many people could still be alive.   
  
What still haunts my dreams, is the fact that I could have saved so many people's lives. Ron, for one... Ron was my best friend all through school - he was the best friend I've ever had in my life. I'll never forget that day... it was hot, stinking hot. Hermione met me at the door, in hysterics, saying something about the killing curse and Ron. I didn't understand much more than that, but when I saw her face - and I mean actually say her face - I knew something drastic had happened.   
  
I couldn't speak after I saw Ron in the kitchen. He looked as though he'd fallen asleep on the floor - I half expected him to open his eyes and start laughing at any minute... but he couldn't, and never could again.   
  
It was at that moment that I actually knew what it was like to lose someone. I never knew my parents, so I couldn't remember anything about when I lost them... but this was different. He wasn't my blood relation, but he was my brother... the closest thing to a real brother I ever had. Losing someone isn't like losing a race, or a competition. It's worse then coming last out of millions of people faster then you, or better at something. Its as though your soul is torn in half, you're incomplete. An empty void is created where your soul and body meet, and it can't ever be filled again.   
  
Hermione seemed to suffer worse than me, physically. She threw herself into training, studying, everything she could to try to forget what had happened. I didn't... somehow, even though I felt like killing myself the whole time, I made my way through.   
  
It was during this time that Voldemort tried to get rid of me. Even though I fought back without a care in the world if I lived or died, I survived. There was a lull in activities for almost three years then, during which time I began seeing Ginny. The Weasley's were quick to forgive me for not staying in Hogsmeade where we could be kept under surveillance, but I knew they'd never forget what had happened. I still feel as though it is my fault he died.   
  
The lull in activities would have a big climax, and I knew it. I just didn't expect one quite so big, or as fast as what it was. Ginny disappeared, and her body was found two weeks later by Muggles. Neville, someone I'd become especially good friends with during our last year at Hogwarts, didn't show up when we'd arranged to meet over drinks. He wasn't heard from until someone from the ministry found his remains three weeks afterwards. Even Hagrid vanished, and Dumbledore was found in his office at Hogwarts. They told me Dumbledore had died in his sleep... but unless you're having particularly horrific nightmares that kill, you don't die with a look of terror on your face.   
  
What made me think I was going crazy was when I got a letter from Sirius telling me the death-eaters were surrounding my aunt and uncles place. I didn't, couldn't, understand why they would target Muggles I didn't even like, but when I remembered the magic surrounding the place for me... with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia gone, there'd be no safe place for me anywhere.   
  
I don't blame Hermione for becoming an Auror; I would have done the same had I been in her position. But I wasn't. I had lost too many friends for it to be coincidence, and I knew I wouldn't ever be any use to the ministry if I was always wondering who would go next. I think now, looking back, I was amazed whenever Hermione sent me an Owl. Somehow, and I didn't mean to doubt her, I thought she would be killed.   
  
I managed to survive until the Hogwarts reunion... it seemed, somehow, that I hadn't been hunted as much during these years. I didn't want to go - there would be too many faces missing, too many memories ruined. Mrs. Weasley convinced me to... she told me that Ron would be, if he were alive, and I should go, even if it were just to take his spirit to see his friends. As far fetched as this may sound, I believed her. I still do.   
  
Hermione, who I hadn't seen for quite some time at this point, turned up. I knew *she* didn't want to be there. Hogwarts was always a happy memory for her, and by going back she would only destroy that memory. She was so different to what I remembered... so much older, yet her eyes were so much younger, so childlike.   
  
The number of faces missing was astonishing. Even I didn't think there would be so many less... but one person was there, I noted. Draco Malfoy... I'd always wondered what he would end up doing in life. I guess being a death-eater was like coming home for him - it was the only thing that mattered to him. he didn't really do much - didn't talk to people, didn't eat anything, didn't drink anything... didn't do anything much besides stand around and look at people.   
  
He *did* say something to Hermione, because I saw her talk back. She left then, and Malfoy went back to watching people so closely I was half-afraid they would spontaneously combust. He wasn't that lucky. I didn't see him leave, as he was still there when I headed for home. I didn't think Ron would mind that I skipped the 'in remembrance' section... the list would have been too long.   
  
Hermione disappeared for a while after the reunion, and I was starting to really worry when I was told she was back at St Mungo's. I visited once, but they told me she didn't want any visitors. I sent owls instead. I always got a reply, including one about how Malfoy had taken Voldemort's position as the Dark Lord, but then she told me she was heading overseas for a few years, and not to expect a reply to the owls. She was gone for two years, and didn't even tell me when she arrived back - I found that out from the ministry when I applied for a teaching job at Hogwarts.   
  
I'd spent the years Hermione was gone studying, training, to become a teacher. Hogwarts still had trouble with the Defense Against the Dark Arts position - no teacher had lasted for more than two years - but that didn't deter me from my mission. I would fill that place, teach the students what life outside was like. I was given the position when I turned thirty-three... two months after Hermione gave birth to her son.   
  
Hermione had tracked me down when we were thirty, just after I'd found out she was back. She told me, time and again, how sorry she was, how she hadn't meant to leave me in the lurch, but how she knew that I wouldn't be a target any longer. Malfoy didn't have a reason to hate me other then the fact I was in Gryffindor, he was in Slytherin, and our houses were mortal enemies - but school was a long way behind us now, and that wasn't the same. At least with Voldemort there was a reason - I'd caused his downfall.   
  
When Hermione needed a break from the hordes of owls from the ministry, she would go to Diagon Alley and lose herself amidst the crowds. One day I found her gone, and she didn't return for three weeks. I was worried, but I knew she could take care of herself. She *had* been an Auror.... When she did come back, she looked different. I don't know how, don't ask me to explain, but she was... different. There's no other word for it.   
  
I found out why a couple of months later - she was pregnant. She said she knew who the father was, but she wasn't going to tell. When her son was born, I guessed the father and by the look on her face I knew I was right. Her son's name is Blane Draco Aquillis Malfoy Granger. Draco Malfoy is the father, and he announced his absolute power about two months after Hermione returned from her three-week long trip.   
  
Hermione told me about her fling with Malfoy at Hogwarts; how could I have been so blind at the time? I still don't believe she should have named her son after someone so evil, someone who has caused more pain and suffering in this world then Voldemort himself. She tells me, every time I bring this up, that he never actually did anything to hurt her... I don't believe he ever cared about anything besides power.   
  
Hogwarts is quieter then it was when I was at school there. There are less people, less teachers, less students. Gryffindor and Slytherin are no longer mortal enemies... in fact, Gryffindor reminds me of Hufflepuff now... no one wants to be placed there, no one wants anything to do with it. But I do... I'm the professor in charge of Gryffindor... I've been told I had the chance to play Quidditch for England, but I passed it up - I didn't pass anything up. I knew what I wanted, and I've now got it.   
  
But I'll never stop wondering, if I had stayed at Hogsmeade like I had been told to, what would have happened with my life?  
*****  
A/N: That's it for Harry's story... whatcha think?? Let me know!! 


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